Recycled love: The role of gifts in our circular economy

came across a fascinating survey by The Ken recently: its annual deep-dive into India’s gifting habits. Over 250 readers shared their philosophies, formulas and moral frameworks for what is, let’s face it, one ofthe most fraught yet revealing human behaviours: the art of gifting. Readingiit felt abit like glimpsinga collective Indian diary ofsentiment and self-awareness, sprinkled with generosity and guilt in equal parts. It turns out we are a nation of philosophers when it comesto gifts.

- TULSI JAYAKUMAR

Some respondents spoke movingly about choosing “something meaningful that the person wouldn't buy forthemselves.” Oth-ersemphasized “utility,” “sustainability” or the goal of “creating happy memories.” And then, there were the realists, those who confessed to the quiet if slightly shamefaced ritual ofre-gifting. They are, I suspect, the unsung economists of our times—the ones who've understood that love, like matter, cannot be created or destroyed, only transferred from one social circle to another. Re-gifting, of course, has a bad reputation. It's viewed as the moral equivalent of reheating leftovers fora dinner guest. Yet, as I read through the survey's findings, it struck me that perhaps we've been too harsh on recycled gifts. Ina world obsessed with sustainability and circulareconomies, isn’tre-gifting simply emotional recycling? The Ferrero Rocher box that'sbeen to more Diwali parties than you haveisn't wasteful—it's well-travelled. The candle-holder that made its way from a cousin to a colleague and then to the neighbour's housewarming is practicallyan heirloom now,asymbolof continuity and efficiency.